


I won't be home for Christmas (I'll be with Cas)

by missing_fawkes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkwardness, Barista Dean Winchester, Christmas Fluff, Coffee Shop Owner Charlie Bradbury, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Nerd Dean Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Queen Charlie Bradbury, make destiel canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missing_fawkes/pseuds/missing_fawkes
Summary: Belatedly he realizes that he is staring, so he clears his throat, wills the blush away he can feel coloring his cheeks and forces his voice into use."... do for you?", his voice is low and scratchy and somehow makes the standard question sound like a mix between a sexual proposal and an offer for a spontaneous therapy session.Looking at Tall, dark & handsome, the man could probably use either one of the options. Or both.In which Dean is stuck working in a coffee shop on Christmas Day and Cas is the lonely person spending their whole day there.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 64





	I won't be home for Christmas (I'll be with Cas)

It is 10am on Christmas Day and Dean has already been on his feet for three hours.  
Unfortunately not because he is excited for presents or because he is on his way to visit family for Christmas, but for the simple and annoying fact that he's at work.

And the day is not going to be pleasant.

Right now the customers are still coming in waves, picking up a cup of coffee for a long drive home or purchasing last minute baked goods, but Dean knows that around noon the shop will be deserted.  
He hates it when that happens, hates it, when things slow down and it feels like time is moving backwards instead of passing.  
Especially today.  
He was supposed to spend the day with Sam and his new girlfriend, but he got stuck with a double shift instead, because everybody had already called dibs on holiday or was miraculously sick this morning, so he won't be back in his shitty apartment until after closing time and by then it's gonna be to late to get to Palo Alto, even in a flying death trap he's forced to use if he wants to visit his little brother nowadays.

Dean can't say which brother was more disappointed when he called Sam to break the news to him that they won't see each other today, but the voice in the back of his head telling him how John was never there for Christmas either, did nothing to ease the pain of being apart for the first time ever on Christmas Eve.

There is nothing he can do about it though, except to let out his frustration by furiously wiping the counter until someone behind him clears his throat and distracts him from his own misery.  
Dean closes his eyes for a moment, willing his feelings away into the box in his head titled "deal with it never", before he puts on his best smile and turns around.

"Hey welcome to Espresso Patronum, what can I ...", the words catch in his throat when he sees who exactly made his way into the shop today.

The man's dark hair is windswept and snowflakes are just beginning to melt in the warmth of the coffee shop.  
He is wearing a tan trench coat that looks old and well-worn and can't possibly keep him warm at this time of the year, but the suit he wears underneath it speaks volumes about the kind of money he must have in his bank account, because the way it fits his body is way too flattering for it not to be tailored.

However, Dean's eye is caught by something else.  
It is not the strong jawline or the man's pink lips that are slightly chapped from the cold, even though his gaze lingers on them longer than it should.  
It is his piercing blue eyes and the sadness that shines within them that bring Dean's entire world to a halt.

Belatedly he realizes that he is staring, so he clears his throat, wills the blush away he can feel coloring his cheeks and forces his voice into use.

"... do for you?", his voice is low and scratchy and somehow makes the standard question sound like a mix between a sexual proposal and an offer for a spontaneous therapy session.  
Looking at Tall, dark & handsome, the man could probably use either one of the options. Or both.

Dean stares at his hands hovering above the counter and pointedly does not look at the customer. Charlie would tear him a new one if she knew it, but he can't make eye contact now or he is going to die from embarrassment.  
It's not like it matters now whether he applies her customer policy now or not, since he probably made the guy so uncomfortable that he's never coming back to the coffee shop ever again.

The silence between them is stretching out and Dean looks up again if only to make sure the man is still there.  
Then man is watching him with an unreadable expression and Dean begs the ground beneath him to open up and swallow him, because there is a beautiful, heartbroken man in front of him and with only one sentence he has managed to fuck up their encounter.  
Their eyes lock, yet no words are spoken and Dean resists the urge to start nervous blabbering by clearing his throat.

"Your order?", he asks tentatively, hoping to just get this interaction over with.  
The awkwardness is not entirely his fault, he tells himself.  
The guy could've just given him a weird look, ordered his coffee and been on his merry way, instead of being completely unresponsive.

"Oh yes, of course", the man gives Dean a sheepish smile and it is so unexpected and adorable that Dean nearly melts on the spot.

Goddammit. What is wrong with him today?!

"I'll have a cup of peppermint tea and whatever pastry you recommend,"  
the guy says,  
"as long as it is not holiday related."

"Coming right up," Dean answers and then -because his brain has clearly gone on vacation without him- finds himself asking:  
"Do you not celebrate Christmas?"

The moment the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them and his palm meets his forehead before he can stop himself.

"Sorry, you don't have to tell me, of course. I was just trying to make conversation and I mean, it's not like it's a grave question, because really you can just answer with yes or no, so it's not a big deal, but you seem kinda sad, so maybe it is for you and I didn't mean to overstep or bring back bad memories or anything and ...,"  
he snaps his mouth shut to keep himself from babbling, but by now the man must think he's batshit crazy.  
He glances at the man through his fingers and is met with yet another unreadable look.

"I am just gonna make your order," Dean says and great, now he is narrating himself, because that's how much of a professional he is.  
He turns around and reaches for a cup when another thing comes to mind.

"Do you want it to go or eat here?"

He behaves like it's his first day on the job considering how many stupid mistakes he already made and he prays that the man won't want to consume his food here, because Dean seriously needs some time to turn himself back into a functioning human being.

"I would like to eat here."

There is no trace of emotion in the low rumble of his voice, but Dean nearly sinks to his knees, because why on earth does his embarrassment need to be drawn out even longer.  
Instead he schools his expression into a professional smile and gestures to the tables and booths around him.

"Of course, take your pick. I don't think you're gonna get much company any time soon. The next rush usually doesn't come until the early afternoon, so you have the whole place to yourself."

Because apparently it's impossible for Dean Winchester to just say "Have a seat" today.

If things go on like that, he can consider himself lucky, if he manages to not spill the hot tea water all over himself.  
He chooses a slice of apple cinnamon pie which is sort of christmassy, but also not really and puts the entire order on a tray without spilling milk or sugar and manages not to burn himself even as he puts everything in front of the man, who is looking out the window like a statue.  
The sound of porcelain on wood gets his attention and he thanks Dean with a smile that makes his stomach flip in the best way possible.  
He thinks about lingering and trying to talk to the stranger for a little bit, but then again the guy probably isn't up for smalltalk with some random barista who has acted nothing but weird in his presence.

Times passes slowly and as predicted only a few people come in, but the man remains at his table and looks out the window and watches the by-passers.  
His pie is long eaten and what's left of the tea must be cold, so Dean decides to check up on him, before the afternoon rush.

"Everything alright?," he asks, startling the man out of his stupor.

"What? Yes, yes I am done, thank you very much," the man stumbles over his words as if he did not expect to be spoken to, which - again - is decidedly not adorable.  
"Great," Dean smiles, "can I get you anything else?"

The man hesitates, before nodding slowly, like he's not quite sure about his decision yet. His eyes dart around like he's looking for something to say and when they settle on the menu, he grabs it like a life line.  
"Is it alright if I take a moment to decide?," he asks as if Dean is going to kick out a paying customer.  
As if Dean is going to refuse him anything.

"Of course, man. Take your time."  
Dean is about to add something, but luckily the bell announces another customer so he is spared from making a fool of himself.

He turns around and can't help his face lighting up at the sight of the person who's just come in.  
"Well if it isn't my Queen," he exclaims and bows exaggeratedly before sweeping Charlie up in a hug despite the fact that her eyes are puffy and her nose is running.  
"Get off me you moron, I don't want to make you sick as well," she says, playfully shoving his face away and because Dean is obnoxious like that he turns his face and licks at her palm to make her squeal. He's successful and Charlie rubs her hand on his leg to rid it of his saliva.

"You're disgusting, I don't know why I like you."  
"You don't just like me, you love me," Dean smirks.  
Charlie doesn't even dignify that with a response and just rolls her eyes at him.

"What are you even doing here, Charlie? You should be in bed and let Kara coddle you. Did something happen?,"Dean asks concerned.

"Just here to make sure you take your lunch break," Charlie said.  
Now it was Deans turn to roll his eyes.  
"You couldn't just call? Seriously Charlie, go home! You can hover around when you're no longer radiating bacillary. "

"But it's soo boring to be stuck at home," she whines and an expression of absolute despair appears on her face, "Kara refuses to watch Harry Potter or Stars Wars with me, so I am stuck watching terrible Christmas movies instead. I don't know with which forgotten entity I messed to deserve this fate, but they are very very pissed."

For the first time on this shitty Christmas Day, genuine laughter escapes Dean's lips and the last bit of professionalism goes to hell when he watches Charlie failing to keep up an angry face.

"Oh man, I'm glad you showed up," Dean confesses and wipes his eyes,  
"I really needed that."

Charlie grins proudly and is about to walk behind the counter when Dean grabs her by the hood and pulls her back.

"That does not mean, you're allowed behind my counter. You're sick and you're going home, now," he says in a voice that leaves no room for argument.

"Alright, alright. Fine," Charlie holds her hands up in surrender and starts retreating,  
"I'll be on my way. Merry Christmas, you idiot."

"Merry Christmas, Charlie."

She turns around one last time to point an accusatory finger at him.  
"Technically it's still my counter, Winchester."  
Dean salutes her with a grin and she's gone as suddenly as came.

Dean turns around to the nameless man, who sits in his booth with a crestfallen look on his face.  
Now more then ever Dean wants to know why this man looks so sad at what's supposed to be the happiest season of all.

However, before he can scrape up the courage to actually go over to him again, the bell over the door announces the arrival of a group of college students who flood the coffee shop and seem way to eager to buy toothrottingly sweet coffee and pastries. Dean prepares their orders in lightning speed, but more and more people are coming in and he doesn't even have a second to catch his breath. The rush that was both dreaded and anticipated has finally arrived and he knows that once it's over, the shop will be empty and deserted again, so he might find time to call Sam and at least wish him a merry Christmas over the phone.

When the last customer finally leaves, Dean looks around in the newly emptied shop and his eyes settle on the man.

"Hey, I am so sorry, man. I totally forgot to check up on you. Do you still want something?", Dean asks sheepishly even though he knows it's not his fault that he's manning the shop alone.

The man smiles warmly.

"No worries. I'll have a cup of coffee, please."  
"Switching to the hard stuff, aren't we?," Dean asks and wow, he's officially the annoying waiter who comments on people's orders now.  
The man brows furrow in confusion and he tilts his head to the side, squinting at Dean.  
Dean shoots him a grin.  
"You know, from tea to coffee?"  
The confusion doesn't leave the man's face and Dean shakes his head.

"You know what, never mind," he says and turns around to fulfill the guy's order before anything else stupid comes out of his mouth.

Once he's done he sets down the steaming cup on the table and slides on the bench across from the man.

"Alright. Talk."

Another head tilt.

"Dude, you've been here all day. In all these hours you've ordered a cup of coffee, some tea and "whatever pastry I recommend", which is not all that much for the time you spent here. So obviously something's going on," Dean explains and yup, he's being intrusive, but the man definitely has some baggage and if there's even a little chance Dean can take some of it off him, then he will.  
Whether it's by supplying food or offering to listen or whatever.

"I can leave if my order hasn't been enough to occupy this table for so long," the man offers and clearly Dean is not getting his intentions across.

"Stay,"he replies softly.  
"If you want to."

The man nods without a word and they are back at square one.

„My name is Dean," he states, even though it's written on his name tag.  
And I am not as weird as I'm behaving today.  
"Castiel," the man says and that's something after all.

"So, Castiel, now that we know each other, what are you doing here? I am sure you got better things to do than sit around in a coffee shop all day and get your ear talked off by an intrusively curious barista."  
Dean gives Castiel his best smile, but the man's shoulders sag and he shakes his head.

"Today I don't," Castiel says and a sad smile appears on his face as he relives memories long gone, "I used to live Christmas. It was my favorite holiday as a kid. I was the first to bring out the decorations, I stayed up all night trying to catch Santa ... my brother and I even laid a few traps, but the only thing we ever caught was the cat."  
Castiel chuckles and Dean smiles imagining the stoic man in front of him as a child, wide-eyed and excited.

"What happened?," he asks gently and pain flashes across Cas' face.  
"My dad left seven years ago and never came back. It just wasn't the same afterwards."  
He shrugs as if it's no big deal, but Dean knows how hard it is to loose a parent, so he grabs Cas' hand sandwiching it between his own and holds onto them.

"I'm sorry," he says earnestly and Cas nods.

There is nothing either one of them can do about it and the silence between them reminds Dean once again that they do not know each other. That he is holding a stranger's hand in a coffee shop and that they probably won't see each other again once Cas decides it is time to leave. It is a weird thought. With all the awkwardness going on on Dean's part, he doubts that Castiel feels drawn to him in the same way he does. This isn't a hallmark Christmas movie.

Maybe he missed his window. Maybe he ruined his one and only shot at this by being a fumbling mess.

He does not know how to strike up a conversation and Cas is so stoic and silent that it feels inadequate to start a conversation about something meaningless or shallow. He only realizes he's fidgeting with his hands when Castiel puts his own on top of Dean's, reversing the situtation from before. There is an easy smile on his face, completly different from what Dean has seen of him so far and he can feel the corners of his lips turn up at the sight of it.

The sadness in Cas' eyes is gone. Instead they are shining with wordless gratitude and maybe that's how Cas works. Maybe in all the time he had been talking to Dean all this time Dean thought he was silent. The thought makes him smile even wider and he nods his head once, letting Cas know that he understands and that there is no need for words. They sit there for a while, simply getting lost in each other's eyes and when Cas finally speaks, his tone is teasing and his smile turns into a mischievous grin, Dean knows that somehow things will work out just fine.

"So you like Star Wars, huh?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the December Instagram One Shot contest, but I got stuck about 2400 words in and switched prompts like three days before submition deadline.
> 
> However, I did not want to let the story go to waste or wait until next Christmas to post it, so I finished it today.  
> Hope you enjoy it.


End file.
